


Home for the Holidays, and For Good

by StoneAndRoses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fic Exchange, Fluff, Holidays, Humor, Kissing, Quidditch, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:33:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21626881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoneAndRoses/pseuds/StoneAndRoses
Summary: Hermione comes back to the Weasley’s for Christmas after spending the last five years working for MACUSA in America. What happens when she runs into her occasional pen friend and secret crush, and there’s only one bed left for both of them?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 31
Kudos: 271
Collections: Pen15 is Mightier Holiday Gift Exchange 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Astla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astla/gifts).



> Thank you to Belisama for being a great beta and for Astla for choosing such a fun pairing to write. I hope you enjoy!

23 December, 2005

The smell of Molly Weasley’s spiced puddings drew out memories of the Burrow almost forgotten. Ginger, cinnamon, and cloves wafted into Hermione Granger’s nose, causing her to pause at the edge of the gardens. Her trainers were touching British soil for the first time in five years, and Hermione had some reservations about being home for the holidays. Well, technically home for good.

Following the war Hermione, as expected, finished her final year at Hogwarts, almost breaking Severus Snape’s record for number of NEWTs achieved in the process. Hot out of Hogwarts, the Ministry snatched her up for a position within the department of her choosing. She went with International Magical Cooperation. It allowed her to travel and meet so many different witches and wizards. The job expanded her world outside of England, and allowed for an escape from some of the traumas of the war. 

After a year with the department, when a position opened to transfer and represent the British Ministry at MACUSA for a five year term, she jumped at the opportunity. She realized as the time came to leave that she would not have the same support system in America. And once she arrived, it quickly became apparent she would be very busy. So busy in fact, her color coded schedules were not enough to keep everything together. Next thing she knew, shewas seven months into her new role and Ginny was demanding a port key to come see her. 

She missed her friends dearly, but she wasn’t completely convinced all of them felt the same. Ginny and Harry were the only ones to jump across the pond to see her. Well them, and Viktor. But he almost didn’t count, they had gotten  _ significantly _ friendlier over the years. Whenever he was in town for Quidditch they would help each other… relieve some stress. And he would normally buy her dinner. Svetlana had led to the end of that arrangement a few years ago though.

Her term as UK representative had ended two days ago. Yesterday Hermione had packed up her flat into a box (with undetectable extension and feather weight charms, obviously), and now she was here. She officially had a month long sabbatical before deciding what she wanted to do next. She was about 50/50 with going back to the Ministry in a new department or finally giving in to Minerva, and taking over for Professor Vector with the new school year. If she decided to go to Scotland at the end of the summer, maybe she would travel in between. After the last five years she really needed a break. 

But right now, she had to face some smothering hugs from Mrs. Weasley, and what would likely be at least 7.5 dressings down for not coming back sooner. Harry and Ginny had her back, but obviously it was inevitable. Molly wouldn’t hear of her staying at Grimmauld Place while she went hunting for a flat days before Christmas. She  _ must _ stay with family until it was figured out. 

Swallowing and attempting to flatten out her hair a little, she stepped onto the stoop and pushed the kitchen door open. 

“She’s here!” 

“Who?”

“Hermione… duh.”

“Granger? No bloody way…”

“You knew she was coming?”

“You didn’t?!?”

“She’s still family… even if it has been five years.”

“I can’t wait to hear that Yank accent Granger.”

“You better get your arse over here Hermione Jean Granger and give this overly pregnant lady a hug.”

She found that the chaos was surprisingly comforting. Work had been uncontrolled, unmitigated, and complicated chaos. Weasley chaos was charmingly familiar. The last voice that was heard over the crowd was a very pregnant Ginny Potter. Hermione had served as Matron of Honor in their wedding about a month before she left for America, and couldn’t wait to meet her soon to be god-child. She had money on James Potter II as opposed to Lily 2.0. 

“It’s so good to see you,” said Hermione with a bright smile. “But this hug is going to be significantly more difficult than the last one I gave you.”

“Are you calling me fat?” questioned the red head. “Because you’re right,” she finished with a laugh. “And it’s all Harry bloody Potter’s fault.” Causing her husband to roll his eyes from his post on the couch.

“Language, Ginevra!” called the Weasley matriarch. “There are wee ears around.” Molly, scolding as ever, bustled over to Hermione to envelope her into one of her famous hugs. It felt like home, and smelled like biscuits. “It’s so good to have you here, Dear. It’s going to be a full, and complete, house this year.”

From there, the onslaught of Weasleys continued. George tried to hug her, but her pranking reflexes were still high and she settled for a pat to his shoulder. His wife, Angelina, and their son Fred Jr., got an extra hug for him. She reassured him if he was willing to promise a prank free few days he could have a hug. He had just laughed and moved on. 

Arthur was next, moving a little slower than before, but still enthusiastic. She promised that they could talk all about the bag of Muggle gadgets she had for him the following day. Bill’s quickly growing family was next, Fleur giving her a polite hug, before wrestling their daughters into line to show off their impeccable manners. The little girls were adorable, and nightmares, she was sure. 

Percy’s hug was incredibly awkward and forced. They had never been very close, surely due in part to the similarity of their personalities, but mostly due to his prattish-ness. His wife Audrey however, was sweet and full of questions about MACUSA. Hermione assured her that they would have tea before she left to discuss. Their son was also adorable, hopefully with more of Audrey’s qualities than Percy’s. 

Finally Ronald and Susan Weasley (nee Bones) made their way over with a very tiny human. Hermione had been heart broken that she couldn’t be home for Rose’s birth a month prior. It had been so close to the end of her term, and she was trying to prep the new witch taking over. She couldn’t even get away for a day. 

Ron gave her his best smile, and a welcoming hug, which if she was honest, felt more like home than Molly’s. After a prolonged embrace, Susan was right there to hand Rose over. The squishy cheeks and fresh baby smell were almost too much. 

Ron placed his hand on her shoulder, observing the scene. “Rose, this is Aunt Hermione… she’s going to be your favorite I think,” he added quietly.

Hermione had to wipe a few tears off her cheeks as Susan took Rose back, giving her a side-arm hug while they were herded into the dining room. 

It was in the middle of dinner when she leaned over to Ginny to inquire about the missing Weasley, and most consistent pen pal while she had been in America. Although that was a low bar, he wrote every couple months.

“Oh, he should be-”

“Hey Mum!” came a shout from the next room, cutting Ginny off. 

“Charlie Weasley! You are late!” said Molly in her gentlest yell as she got up to usher her son into the house. 

Hermioned laughed, “Speak of the devil…”

Ginny giggled, gave her a look, and then demanded help up to go hug her brother. 

Hermione knew better than to wade into the Weasley sea of red hair when they were greeting people. She stayed at the table with Harry, waiting for Charlie to get to the table. Her best friend looked like he had aged a little more than five years. He was in the middle of his fifth year as Defense Professor, and rumor had it McGonigall was grooming him to take over for her when she was finally ready to let it go. Looking around the Burrow, she realized more than just Harry felt different. She had been talking too much until now to notice. The length of time she had been gone finally hit her. 

“It’ll be fine, Hermione,” whispered Harry. At her questioning look he rolled his eyes. “I know you too well to think you’re tired and spacing out. Everyone missed you, don’t worry about that. You’ll figure everything out and we’ll get back to normal.”

She sighed, “I don’t think I’ll ever get back to ‘normal’ with everyone. I’ve been gone too long and missed too much.”

Harry smiled, “You’re family, I think you’re stuck with us. Don’t worry you’ll figure it-”

“Herms!”

She groaned. She really hated that nickname. 

“Charles,” she drawled, spinning a 180 on the bench to face the newcomer, “I thought I told you that you could use any other nickname you can come up with.” She had to look up at the conclusion of her statement to a broad shouldered man she hadn’t seen in years. 

As she stood, Charlie reached down to give her a hug that picked her off the Burrow’s floor. He stopped short of spinning her around, thankfully placing her in front of the dining table’s bench before turning to shake Harry’s hand while inquiring about his soon to be niece or nephew. She wasn’t sure how, but it was very possible that Charlie’s arms had gotten bigger since the last time she had seen him. She definitely spotted a couple new tattoos. And she could only see part of his arms, she immediately wondered if there was additional new ink…

“It’s good to see you two, it’s been too long,” said the subject of her daydreams. “Especially you Curls. I want to hear about your last couple months in America. Did you start drinking coffee instead of tea?”

“Don’t worry Flames,” she said, bantering along. “I’m still a stout englishman. Tea, crumpets, clotted cream, and Quidditch. No baseball, lattes, or cookies in sight.”

\-------------------

By the end of dessert, the kids were in bed, everyone was in a new jumper, and they were enjoying warm, spiced butterbeer.

“Alright kids,” said Arthur. “We’re off to bed. You all know where to go and what to do. But don’t do anything too crazy,” he finished waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, Hermione, I forgot. The little ones are where you normally slept, and I figured you didn’t want to share with Ginny now,” Molly says with a wry smile in Harry’s direction, “so I’m afraid you’ll be in with Charlie in his old room. The ghoul is still upstairs and we haven’t had the heart to tell him to leave. It doesn’t make a very good roommate, and I will not stand for anyone sleeping on the couch.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed, “Mrs. Weasley, you really-”

“I’ve told you to call me Molly,” interrupted the Weasley Matriarch.    
  
Charlie looked equally confused, “Mum, you really are okay with this? I mean you normally-”

“You’re all adults now Charlie. And I’m sure your boyfriend would have something to say…”

“Mum! You can’t just say stuff like that,” he complained. He stood and began ushering them out of the room. “Here, I’ll help you bring the blankets back upstairs.”

As Hermione turned back to the room full of Weasley siblings, she realized she was the only one who was confused. Everyone else looked like they were in on a joke. “Is there something I’m missing… for once? Who’s Charlie’s boyfriend? He never mentioned one in his letters...”

George dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Charlie’s boyfriend is non-existent,” he said through his laughs. “I joked about it once when mum was complaining he never comes home and she latched onto it. Charlie just plays along so he doesn’t have to explain why he doesn’t want to leave Romania. He isn’t attached to a wizard or witch for that matter.”

“So there’s no Romanian, dragon-taming, lover waiting for Charlie?” questioned Hermione.

Bill smirked, “No Hermione there’s not. Why? Do you feel threatened?”   
  
Hermione blushed but immediately brushed him off, “Of course not. I just want to make sure I don’t rat him out to Molly.”

“Of course not,” said George, “it’s not like the two of you have more chemistry between you than Snape and a jar of hair grease.”

Angelina rolled her eyes, “And with that, we’ll be calling it a night. See everyone in the morning.”

Harry gave Hermione another one of his meaningful looks, and slowly began helping a very sleepy Ginny up to bed.

Everyone else said their well wishes and began to make their way up the stairs. Hermione made sure to hug everyone before she trudged up to Charlie’s room. Without thinking she opened the door and found a very shirtless, and tattoo covered man on the other side. 

“Oh,” she squeaked, covering her eyes. “I’m so sorry Charlie, I-”

“It’s fine,” he said laughing. “I’m just shirtless, not stealing your innocence or anything. I know you camped with Harry and Ron for an extended period of time. This can’t be any worse.”

She blushed and began studying her pink, chipped toenails with rapt interest. “Yeah, it was… a time. But that was ages ago.”

A pause thick enough to cast a  _ bombarda maxima _ through hung between them as Hermione realized she was still standing in the hallway and began to make her way into the room. 

“I hadn’t realized the twins’ joke about your boyfriend, I’m honestly shocked that your mother -” she stopped suddenly finally looking at the furniture in the room. “Charlie…?”

“Yes?”

“Is there really only one bed?”

“Well yeah Curls. There’s only one, not really any room for another one is there?”

“No, I suppose not…” she said blushing again. Her face likely looked like the wrong end of a blast-ended skrewt. “I’ll just be changing then,” she rushed out as she dashed out the door and down the hall to the bathroom. It was going to be a long week.


	2. Chapter 2

24 December 2005

“Mhm,” came a grunt from behind her as Hermione began to stir the next morning. Suddenly there were warm hands starting to cover her hips on either side. In her half awake state, Hermione leaned into the touch, finding a hard chest across her back… and a hard appendage poking into her bum. Despite the cozy feeling, the addition of a stiff… broom, woke her up quickly and she remembered who she was with. 

“Uh… Charlie…?” she questioned quietly. The last thing she needed was anyone bursting into the bedroom because of a slight moment of panic. 

“Mmmm, Herm..ione,” said Charlie groggily, pulling her closer to him. Yes, his broom was definitely ready for riding. She had no doubt. 

“Charlie, are you awake?” she questioned again. She turned as best she could with him still gripping her hips to face him. “Charlie!” she prompted again. 

She watched his deep blue eyes flutter open, and a little color grace his freckles. He spoke once he focused a little, “Hmm…? Hermione, what?” She watched the moment of realization happen, and was very confused about his expression. It looked relaxed at first, but then confusion and fear took over. “Oh my Merlin,” he said scrambling backwards, removing his hands like he was holding one of George’s firecrackers. He stumbled out of the bed dragging the sheet with him to cover himself “I’m so sorry Herms. I-I-I..”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a little disappointment. It felt like he was embarrassed of the situation… of being in that position with her.

Charlie was blushing the same tone of his hair, quickly gathering his clothing. “Maybe I’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” he said quietly.

“No!” she said overly urgent. “I mean, it’s not a big deal… I was just a little… confused when I woke up. I don’t mind… I mean, it’s not going to be weird between us… I mean, we can keep sharing the bed…. If you want to.”

“Oh,” said Charlie looking up. “Good, well then, I’ll see you at breakfast.” He threw his shirt on over his head and started down the stairs. 

Hermione chose to take a scalding shower to hopefully brew some manner of coherency into her thoughts and speech.

\-------------------

“Come on little ones, cookies are ready for decorating, wash up,” bossed Ginny to the small handed witches and wizards in the Burrow. There was still frost on the lawn this morning and Molly didn’t want them outside until it warmed up a little more, so she and Hermione had chosen to do an activity with them. It was decided gingerbread men would be iced for dinner.

Once everyone was dressed in aprons with clean hands and all the icing had been mixed, Ginny let them at it. She and Hermione leaned against the opposite counter with a cuppa to monitor the mayhem and make sure the cookies would be safe for consumption. The red head cast a quick muffliato around the adults. 

“Alright spill,” demanded Ginny. 

Hermione took a sip of her tea briefly ignoring the question and trying to figure out how to answer. Ignorance seemed like the best choice.

“Spill what, Gin? My tea? I don’t think your mum would be very happy with me if I-” she trailed off. Maybe she overdid the acting on that one.

Ginny was part way to achieving the Molly glare. She wasn’t quite there, but Hermione was confident that by the time baby Potter made their appearance, Ginny would have it down. “You absolutely know what I’m talking about. You could barely look at Charlie this morning - your scone is not that interesting even if my mother made it - and he kept stealing glances at you like Colin Creevey would do at the Gryffindor table to Harry. So again I’ll say it, spill.”

Hermione’s sigh echoed through her chest. “I--” she stopped. She wasn’t left without anything to say very often. “It’s a little complicated?”

“Is it?”

Hermione gathered herself, “Well, not really. I had to share a bed with your brother last night and-”

“Yes, you seem very broken up about it,” Ginny teased. 

Hermione gave Ginny her best Minerva impression. “Do you want the story or not?”

“Yes!”

“Well, I woke up with a big spoon this morning when I didn’t start the night with one. And to say it was awkward this morning would be like saying Ronald Weasley likes Quidditch. Understatement of the year. I just… I don’t remember it being like this, I--”

“Have always felt an indescribable tension that is… sexual in nature?” cut in Ginny. 

Hermione sighed, “Ginny, we met when I was a child. So no. We don’t even see each other very much. We saw each other at holidays, occasionally exchanged letters.”

“He’s just always teased you, and gone out of his way to make conversation with you. Well, at least since fourth year. Trust me Hermione, I’m his sister. Charlie generally chooses not to be very social with anyone he doesn’t want to be. Does he spend much energy on my husband? No, he does not. He likes Harry, but no more than his other in-laws. Mum’s quite jealous of how much he writes you. She’s lucky if she gets a few lines every six months. It doesn’t hurt that he’s got a soft spot for good people… and petite brunettes” Ginny turned with a wink to check the icing fiends, and stepped in to stop Victoire from smearing too much white icing in Fred Jr’s hair. 

Thinking back, Hermione wasn’t sure when the dynamic with Charlie had changed. He had started checking in on her when he wrote Ginny and Ron during their fourth year at Hogwarts. When she had been at the Burrow over the summers after that, he always found her whenever he was home to chat about anything and everything. Quidditch, dragons, charms, the twins, even chocolate. They had exchanged a few letters of their own during Hermione’s sixth year before chaos descended the next. 

After the war they finally had time to talk while he was on leave from the reserve. She had told him every detail about the escape from Gringotts, the dragon involved, the awful conditions. That had been right before she left for America. Their exchanges were infrequent at best, but sometimes it fel that she knew more about his current life thanall the other Weasleys. Charlie was different, but it was difficult to articulate how she felt about him. Were they even friends? Close friends? Something else?

For one, she was extremely attracted to him. His broad shoulders forced Molly to add extra stitches to the tops of his sweaters. They were probably twice the size of hers even though he was only about a head taller than her. His strong arms were lined with various tattoos, mostly runes and dragons, which added to his air of difference and danger. Hermione was always in control of her life and was extremely organized about every little thing. Charlie, on the other hand, flew by the seat of his pants - literally. Dragons were some of the least controllable creatures on the planet, and he worked with them on a daily basis. He was the definition of flexible… which led down its own rabbit holes. 

“Earth to Granger, I need some help over here!”

When she snapped out of it, Hermione took in the chaos in front of her before acting. 

“Teddy! You cannot shove icing up someone else’s nose, no matter how much Violet asked you to.”

\-------------------

Later that afternoon everyone was gathered around the living room complaining about Ginny’s pregnancy. A dangerous activity at the best of times. 

“Ginny… seriously. Why’d you have to go and get up the duff? Now our teams are uneven. We’re running out of things to do inside, Quidditch would be perfect right now,” complained Ron. 

“Seriously sis,” said George. “We’ve finally got the warming and melting charms on the pitch. We were hoping to test everything out. Charlie’s even here, we haven’t played with him in _ages_.”

Hermione observed quietly. The unspoken piece to this whole conversation being that Fred was the real reason the teams were uneven. The Weasley’s, with maybe the exception of George, looked upon the lost brother with longing still, but it was in a more positive way than it had been soon after the war. Arthur couldn’t play any longer either, and now they were down another player in Ginny. 

While the brothers kept complaining, Ginny sent Hermione a smirk from across the room and spoke up. 

“Hermione can take my spot,” said the red head calmly. 

Every single neck snapped in Ginny’s direction and there was a miraculous moment of silence in the Burrow before it was broken by loud guffaws. 

“I’m serious, I’ll vouch for her. She can take my spot,” insisted Ginny.

Ron was still laughing, and looked at Hermione. “You’ve got to be yanking my wand.”

“Ron you can’t say that about my wife, who is also your sister,” grumbled Harry. 

“Well, my point still stands. Are we talking about _the_ Hermione Granger?” he exclaimed. “The same one who barely passed flying class? Or gets green at the mere thought of being on a broom? No way.”

“Yeah,” said George with a smile, “I remember when she almost puked last time Freddy tried to take her flying. Well… that was more him just picking her up as he flew by, but still.”

These comments continued as Ginny and Hermione sat quietly. 

“You know what?” interjected Ginny. “I’ll bet you all a galleon each that not only can Hermione Jean Granger fly just as well as all of you, well except maybe Harry, but that she will be the tipping point and her team will win.”

“You’re bloody on,” said Ron immediately.

Charlie was leaning forward in his seat, having not participated in the conversation until now. “What do you know you little sneak?” he asked Ginny.

The lone Weasley girl smiled innocently and shrugged. 

“Fine,” said Harry, “but she’s on my team since you’re normally on mine.” Harry had learned early on not to question his wife. 

As they retrieved their brooms from the shed, Ginny gave hers to Hermione. “I reckon this one isn’t as good as the one you learned… well, were practicing on, but it’ll do. It’s a few models old but is racing certified.”

“Learned? Practiced? Hermione, what…?” poor, sweet Harry asked. He was always a little oblivious, even now. She was sure some of the upper level Slytherins were pulling the puffskeins over his eyes during his classes. 

“Yeah…” she hesitated. She figured she might as well explain as they made their way to the pitch. “My friend who visited a few times never loved how busy New York was, so we would go into the countryside. And he insisted on flying. When he remembered I was afraid of heights and didn’t really know how to fly he took it as a challenge and taught me.” Her explanation made Ron and Harry a little upset, as expected. 

Ron piped up first, “But we offered to teach you loads of times!”

“Yeah, who is this mysterious friend of yours?” questioned Harry.

“Little more than a friend…” mumbled Ginny under her breath. 

“Gin!” she scolded lightly punching the other witch in the arm. 

“Yeah, Herms. Who is this mystery friend that taught you how to fly?” questioned Charlie.

She wasn’t sure why she was embarrassed, and mumbled the answer to her feet. Nobody heard her.

“I’m sorry Sugar Quills, you’re going to have to try that again,” said Charlie with a smirk. 

“Viktor Krum,” she said a little louder. 

Everyone froze, and Charlie turned to her. “I’m sorry… did you just say that the Bulgarian National Quidditch team captain taught you how to fly?”

“Yes.” Her cheeks were definitely turning pink.

“How are you even ‘friends?’” he pressed on with air quotes placed strategically. He must have heard Ginny. 

“Don’t ask-”

“Bloody Krum-”

“Yule Ball-” responded Harry, Ron, and Ginny at the same time. 

“This is the same Krum that holds the record for youngest seeker to play in a Quidditch World Cup? And if I’m not mistaken, the same person who you briefly dated?”

She sighed, “I don’t know if you could call it dating… I was in fourth year and hadn’t learned Bulgarian yet…”

“I’d say what you had more recently wasn’t really dating either… more like mutual gratification..” said Ginny with a laugh. 

“The fastest way into a girls knickers is a broom after all,” added George, which promptly resulted in a hard smack from a broom handle to his bum. Angelina was not thrilled about his comment.

“Well bollocks,” said Ron. 

Bollocks indeed. Ron’s team was thoroughly trounced by Harry and Hermione’s. They would have won even if Harry hadn’t beat Charlie to the snitch. 

Ron was gobsmacked when she scored on him the first time. He took it as a personal insult the third time. He became resigned to it by the sixth time. It wasn’t her fault that she was observant. She knew all his tells and had watched every single one of their games an scrimmages at Hogwarts. The pattern was one a second year could have figured out. 

“Really Ron, you are a good player. But some simple arithmancy made it clear where I needed to shoot.”

The wizard in question had his head hanging towards the green grass, mumbling to himself. Ginny had just collected her winnings extremely smugly. It really should be considered insider trading, but Hermione wasn’t going to complain. 

“You should have just married him, Hermione. You could be a Quidditch power couple… think of the children… They-”

“Yes, well, Svetlana,” she said the witch’s name like she was adding armadillo bile to a potion, “ended our agreeable arrangement. And she really is much prettier.”

“That bimbo of a blonde he always has on his arm? Dragon dung!” Said Charlie, who had a look of surprise on his face. All his siblings and in-laws were staring at him, most with their mouths hanging open.

“Yeah…” said Ginny trying to save her brother’s dignity. “Hermione, you’re way more gorgeous than that Bulgarian Ice Queen.”

“Whatever,” mumbled Hermione as she rushed into the Burrow. Later her excuse was that she wanted to shower before everyone else, but it was more accurate to say that she had no idea what to say in that situation and couldn’t face her bed mate of the week for fear of implicating herself in regards to the big fat crush she had. 

\-------------------

Dinner was a mostly quiet affair, in Weasley terms at least, minus the wild yarns everyone was telling about Hermione’s newfound Quidditch talent. 

“Really,” she cut in while George was talking about her being the face of their new Quidditch products, “this is the last time I play. I find flying relaxing, but the game is much too dangerous and stressful. I’m hanging up my gloves for good.”

“But you can’t!” exclaimed Ron. “You have to be on my team next time.”

“But I won’t be any good on your team. Bill doesn’t have a tell… at least not that I know of,” she retorted. 

“We’ll get you on a broom again Herms, don’t you worry.”

“Charlie, I told you-”

“I know, I know _Herms_ you aren’t too fond of the nickname, I however-”

“Flames, I really hate that nickname-”

“Why? You’ve never told me. It can’t be too bad since-”

“Seriously, _Charles_ , I’m warning you.”

“Throw it at me Herms, I can take it.” He was smirking and looked confident enough to take on old Voldy himself.

Molly _finally_ jumped in asking if anyone wanted a top off of eggnog and ran into the kitchen to grab the ginger cake she always made on Christmas Eve. Hermione volunteered to help slice and followed behind the matriarch quickly.

“Charlie,” said Ginny lowly, “leave it be.”

“All she has to do is-” he started to push again. 

“Seriously,” said Harry, “drop it. It’s her story to tell, but it’s a sensitive subject. Leave it alone.”

He found Hermione leaning against the counter in the kitchen after Molly had returned with cake slices. 

“Alright Curls, I’m sorry that I pushed you too hard… but will you tell me what’s wrong?” he said softly, pushing a slice of cake and fork her direction. 

“I just- I have a hard time with the holidays.” She took a hesitant bite looking at Charlie through her lashes. He was listening intently. “My Dad used to call me Herms… and Christmas was his favorite holiday so my mum did it up.”

“Oh Curls…”

“Don’t,” she responded. “You didn’t know. And I would have told you up front but it’s been a busy few weeks and my brain has been running a mile a minute.” 

Charlie sat quietly looking at her, clearly trying to figure out what to say. But unlike any of the people she knew, his eyes did not drift to her arm when she talked about the war. They did not look to the clothing covering her ugly reminder of what freedom had cost her. He looked at her, listening and trying to find the best thing to say. Not some niceties that were meant to placate. 

“Well, we just have to make sure this Christmas is spent making new family traditions with us. Right Sugar Quills?”

“Sure, Charlie.”

The rest of the evening was pleasant. Everyone unwrapped their annual jumper from Molly, they drank more eggnog and had extra slices of sticky ginger cake, and once the kids were in bed Ogden's Finest came out. Soon after Arthur finished his first glass he was dragged upstairs by the Mrs. 

“Don’t forget a muffliato,” George cried after them, causing all his siblings to cringe. 

In an attempt to _not_ imagine the elder Weasleys dancing the horizontal tango, they began telling stories from Hogwarts. Charlie had just finished telling everyone about Percy almost falling off the boats his first year when Bill cut in with one about Charlie. 

“My seventh year good ole Charles here tried to convince Professor Hooch and Kettleburn to let him ride a thestral for an inter-house quidditch match. His argument was that it would be unfair if he was on a broom and-“

“Wait,” interjected Hermione, “Charlie, could you actually see the threstrals?”

He laughed at her question, “Of course not, that’s what makes it fun.”

The room giggled and launched into more flying stories including the car from second year, Harry’s fight with a dragon their fourth, and the infamous escape from Gringotts. Apparently bill had charmed and ridden a desk around the fifth floor just to prove to Flitwick he had been paying attention in class. 

“And I thought we had fun in school, Charlie,” sighed Bill. “Hearing these lot talk about their Hogwarts years makes us sound like jokes. But we were lions among wizards. You especially being star Gryffindor seeker, rugged but soft beast wrangler, and chasing skirt whenever you could.” Bill always got a little colorful when he was in his cups.

“Well,” said a very red Charlie, “I’m not sure about chasing.”

“Yeah, the way we heard it, they all came after you!” laughed George. 

“Well…” started Charlie before being cut off by Ginny. 

“I think that’s my cue for bed. I don’t need to hear about your escapades.”

Everyone started mumbling and finding their significant others. Suddenly Hermione realized she and Charlie were alone on the couch. She needed to have a serious conversation about the drawbacks of meddling with a certain Weasley sister. 

“She thinks she’s so subtle,” mumbled Charlie laughing. “She used to be a much better liar.”

Hermione laughed, “Its Harry’s fault. He’s a terrible liar himself and he’s so trusting. She probably doesn’t do it much anymore and is out of practice.”

“Curls, I really am sorry about earlier-“

“You don’t need to be-“

“It was rude of me-“

“No, I was being weird and Harry well, he’s defensive-“

“You’re basically part of the family, it’s just cute to see you get flustered-“

“Your sister too- wait,” she said stopping mid rant. “Did you just call me cute?”

“Uh,” mumbled Charlie rubbing the back of his neck. His face was turning a similar shade to his hair. His bicep was bulging through his burgundy jumper and Hermione couldn’t help but stare. “I mean,” he started again, clearly at a loss for words being caught out. 

Maybe it was the eggnog, or Ogdens. Maybe it was the holiday spirit or being stuck in a house with all everyone else partnered up. Maybe it was how sweet he had been earlier in the kitchen, or maybe it was the deep, repressed crush she had on this particular Weasley brother. Maybe it was thinking back to sharing a bed and feeling an incredible hard on this morning. Whatever it was, she walked straight up to him and snogged him like she had never snogged before. 

Their teeth bumped like first years initially, and then Charlie took over. He slowly sat down and pulled her onto his lap on the couch, spreading her legs so that her knees rested on either side of his thighs. He was working his rough, calloused hands into her hair, stroking the back of her neck with one of his thumbs. 

Charlie deepened the kiss by working his tongue into her mouth slowly and methodically. She wasn’t sure if a treasure hunt or an experiment was a more apt description. Either way, both of them were getting lost in the kiss. Her hands magically found their way down to his belt, seeking out the clasp. As she was working on it, her shirt was slowly sneaking up her torso, approaching her bra. 

“BLIMEY!” Yelled a new voice from the stairs. 

Hermione jumped out of Charlie’s lap and was standing next to the coffee table before you could say Two Ton Tongue Toffee. Charlie had grabbed a pillow to throw over his lap before they both turned to the intruder. 

“Ronald!” She scolded at a whisper, knowing that she was actually the one that should be on the receiving end. 

Her ex-boyfriend’s ears were bright red and he was looking sheepishly at the floor. “Sorry,” he said with a bit of a smirk. “Susan is craving some of those cookies you made with Gin earlier.”

To say she was embarrassed was a massive understatement. Hermione had never gotten caught snogging anyone in her life. Not by her parents, not by any of the Hogwarts professors… it just had to be one of her best friends and former flames. 

“Look Ron,” began Charlie, who looked less embarrassed and more pleased with himself. 

Ron cut him off with a palm in the air facing both of them. “I’m just going to walk into the kitchen, grab a few cookies, and go back upstairs like nothing happened. I won’t say anything, but this… If you do decide to give it a go, like actually give you two a go, I want to be the first to know.”

“Deal,” she and Charlie both responded quickly. 

Ron did just as he said he would. Hermione was left staring from her vantage point in front of Charlie. She was trying to figure out what to say. Until now she hadn’t had to say much, just react. The smartest witch of her age was finding she was actually quite awkward in this type of situation. When she and Charlie wrote each other letters it was easier. No face to face conversation, no remembering how gorgeous he really was, just catching each other up on the last few months. This was very different and uncharted, dragon-infested air space for them.

“So that was amazing,” she blurted making Charlie laugh. 

“Yeah, that’s a story for the kids for sure,” he said looking a little red in the face. “You know, I realize I may not have been clear with how I feel in my letters. I would like to see where this goes… but maybe we should wait until we’re not on my parent’s couch with all my siblings ‘asleep’ upstairs? Better yet, maybe until we’re not under my parent’s roof?” 

“Agreed,” she said nodding. “Bed time?”

“Yeah, but I, um… I’m going to walk this one off.”

Hermione furrowed her brows together before the deluminator caused the light to turn on in her brain. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well… I’ll let you do what you need to do… If I’m asleep by the time you get up there…”

“Maybe I should sleep on the couch,” he suggested.

“I don’t think you have to. Besides,” she said with a giggle, “I don’t think either of us want to explain this to your mum right now. At least not this way.”

He looked terrified, like how most people would look staring a dragon in the snout. “No. No we don’t. I’ll see you in the morning Curls.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are lemons at the end of this chapter (yay!) but if that's not your thing, you'll probably want to skip the Boxing Day section.

December 25, 2005

Hermione woke up on Christmas Day to the smell of warm buns downstairs. Cinnamon, apple, and hot cross if her potions nose was still as good as it used to be. There was no dragon wrangler next to her and she didn’t have any recollection of him joining her at any point in the night. That wasn’t to say she hadn’t seen him in her dreams as cheesy as it sounded. Last night’s scenario had played out to their mutual completion, and she was definitely interested in seeing how real life could compare to her REM cycle. He had done things with his tongue that she had only heard Lavender gossip about in their dorm room. She wished she had figured out how to save dream memories, it would be an excellent addition to her naughty pensieve collection.

She pulled on her new jumper from Molly and began trudging down the stairs. The kids were on strict guidelines, no presents until everyone was downstairs, had some food in their stomachs, and the adults had some caffeine or alcohol in their hands. Hermione just hoped that she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t come down yet, she did not want to be on the receiving end of Fred Jr.’s complaining. 

To her dismay she was the one holding up the festivities, but Molly waved her off with some excuse about international floo travel and demanded she sit down next to Charlie on the end of the bench. Convenient she thought, especially seeing Ron’s not so furtive glances her way. Which lead to Ginny smirking in her direction when passing the tea pot. It was impossible to keep secrets in this house. Especially when Ginny just assumed she knew everything and would make you confess what actually happened. She would be avoiding the pregnant witch today… she would not get pulled into a broom cupboard.

Once breakfast finished, the parade to the tree began. Hermione ended up winning the coveted spot on the corner arm chair. Charlie joined her, sitting on the arm, and handing her a much needed mimosa as George and Bill set about handing out gifts. 

The little ones tore into the paper, creating clouds upon clouds of mess. Hermione quickly remedied this by charming ripped paper to fly to the kitchen’s bin. Toy brooms were found first, making almost everything else irrelevant. Harry assured all the wives that they had an adjustable height restriction. Hermione got second place for best gift when the kids dug into the box of American sweets to try. She included the child’s version of Hogwarts a History as well (if she had any hope of the Burrow not being overrun by little hellions, she had to get them started young). 

The grown ups took a slower pace, unwrapping and thanking as they went. Hermione received many books from her list, something Harry had started a few years ago. If they were all going to buy her books, they might as well buy her ones that she wanted. George gifted her with a key to the joke shop’s workshop, claiming she should stop by to help test any product at any time. She was on sabbatical for a while after all. Ginny had given her a sharp witch’s hat, similar to the one McGonnigal wore with a sapphire pin on it. Her note had simply said, “ _ We all know where you’re going to end up, so I thought I’d make sure you fit in. _ ” Fleur and Bill had gifted her some teaching robes that had some fancy French designer on it. 

She was thankful, but a little unsure. She hadn’t completely decided if she was heading back to Scotland or not. Her heart was telling her that was the place to be, but her head wondered about her social life. It also wasn’t exactly the best place to meet a man. Most of them had been her professors at one point, or were significantly older. The only two her age were Neville and Harry who had both been tied down long ago. However, teaching the next generation and living in a beautiful place while making new happy memories felt like where she needed to be. Upon reflection, it was probably fairly clear she had made her mind up. But now with Charlie… she wasn’t sure. Romania was a long ways away from Scotland. 

Charlie broke her out of her thoughts when he leaned her forward to dodge a flying child. Once they sat back up, he handed her two scrolls elegantly wrapped together. 

“I decided to make the trip last minute,” he said. “I didn’t have much time to get everyone presents, but I figured for you this was better than nothing. Honestly, you were a big reason that I decided to come, but don’t tell Dad that.”

She blushed at this and made to unfurl one of the scrolls. 

“Actually,” he said stopping her hand, “Open the other one first.”

Hermione gave him a quizzical look but listened none the less. She gasped upon getting the scroll open to see the official Hogwarts crest, and began reading to herself quietly.

_ Dear Mr. Weasley,  _

_ I hope this letter finds you well, and I hope that the third times the charm in being able to persuade you to make your way a little closer to your mother. I cannot seem to make a Care of Magical Creatures professor stay past a year. I know there’s not a curse on this position, but it’s beginning to feel like one. The children need someone who is passionate about the subject and seen it in the field.  _

_ Lad, I hope you take my offer seriously because we would love to have you. Let me know your decision by Christmas and we can talk more.  _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Headmistress Minerva McGonnigal _

_ P.S. I have a fairly good feeling that my other new edition to the staff will likely be a certain curly headed witch that if I remember correctly, you are quite sweet for. Hopefully that can tip the scales _

Apparently everyone in Wizarding Britain knew something they didn't, or at least hadn’t acknowledged until now. Her first reaction was feeling a little off put by Minerva, but she quickly recovered and looked at Charlie. 

“Congratulations Professor Weasley,” she said with a big smile. “I assume since you’re even bothering to show me this, you took up the offer.”

“That I did, but don’t tell Mum yet. I haven’t told her,” he said conspiratorially. 

She whacked him with the scroll, “Charlie Weasley! That is not something I should know before her!”

He laughed, then shushed her. “It’s fine Brains. She’ll get to my geminoed copy of that letter eventually. After she stops worrying over the grand kids.”

There was a somewhat awkward pause in conversation.

“Is it true?” He finally asked. 

“Is what true?”

“Are you going to be teaching Arithmancy? Have you decided?”

She smiled to herself, at least it seemed they were on the same page. “Yes. I think so. I haven’t officially accepted, but now how can I not with this fabulous hat and set of robes?”

He pretended to feint into her, sighing dramatically. “And what about your favorite companion?”

“Harry? I’m pretty sure he’ll be occupied with that bun in the oven Ginny’s got cooking. But I’m sure he’ll make time for tea with me in his office.”

He glared at her then, “You know what I meant.”

“Yes. I did.” She looked up at him sitting on the arm of the chair still. “Whatever else you plan on asking me, with one or two exceptions, the answer is yes Charles. Apparently we make a good pair and I’d say we need to give it the good ol’ Hogwarts try.”

He beamed, “I was hoping you would say that. Now you can open the other scroll.”

As she unrolled it, an antique hair clip fell into her hand. She turned it over a few times admiring the gorgeous blue stones in it. The note said:

_ Not only am I functional for making sure you can see trouble makers in the back of your classroom, I can also act as a portkey to Romania for any part of that sabbatical you’re supposed to be on. _

“Charlie this is wonderful! How did you manage this?” 

“Well the most prattish of my brothers happens to have a lot of strings to pull on in the Ministry. He’s finally useful for something.”

A passing Percy mumbled under his breath, something about lack of respect. 

“When can we leave?”

He smirked, “Tomorrow if you’d like. I can always use the ‘I’m an important dragon trainer’ excuse, and will be back in the Isles soon enough. Then I’ll sweep you off your feet how does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect, I’ve never been to Romania.” 

They had been sneaking closer and closer together throughout their conversation. Charlie decided to stick their toes in the Black Lake by giving her a sweet kiss on the forehead. Then she dove them in deep with the squid, grabbing his hand and pulling him down for a kiss on the lips. 

“Hermione and Charlie sitting in a tree-“

“Gin, did you see that?”

“I  _ finally _ knew something before everyone else.”

“Bloody finally. Bill do I get to collect interest on this bet since it’s been going for so long?”

This time it was Molly who cut through the commotion.

“Charles Weasley, do you have something, or somethings to tell me?”

As they separated, Molly was looking at them with her chest swelled, holding her breath for what she had been desperately hoping for since Hermione was in fifth year. For the witch to be officially part of the family.

“Yes mum. I’m taking a job at Hogwarts starting this summer. I’m leaving Romania for good.”

For the first time in her life, Hermione thought Molly looked genuinely surprised and looked like she might scream. 

“Oh, and this witch is coming with me,” he added with a wink. 

\-------------------

December 26, 2005

The rest of their time at the Burrow was a blur. Molly and Arthur protested that it had been such a short trip, but conceded when Charlie gently reminded them that they would be back soon. Hermione was thankful to get away from prying eyes and knowing looks. She also felt as awkward as a first year about the thought of doing anything more than sleeping under Mrs. Weasley’s roof. Even though the matriarch had lamented that she had no other option, with Arthur reminding her gently in her ear that Charlie and Hermione were adults, she had allowed them to stay in the same bed. But not wanting to rock the carriage, they had  _ mostly _ kept their hands to themselves. 

Upon landing in Romania on Boxing Day, Charlie began dragging her through the camp to his tent. Most of the other handlers were out in the field or home for the holidays he claimed, and he promised to give her a very thorough tour the next day. Apparently she really needed to meet Margaret, his favorite Ironbelly. But right now, he claimed he wanted some alone time. 

Walking into the expanded tent reminded her why she loved magic. Something so simple and muggle looking was expansive and luxurious on the inside. David Tennant eat your heart out. She had grown up wanting to believe, but knowing that none of it was real, it was all words on a page or special effects on a screen. But then, it had been real all along.

“Now I see why it was so hard to get you to leave,” she said plopping down on an extremely comfortable leather couch. 

“I’m glad you like it,” he replied sitting down and pulling her to sit across his lap. “There’s plenty of room for two, and I’m sure we can find a way to put your brain to work. You can stay as long as you’d like.” 

“I can’t possibly impose on you for that long, I’ve got-“

“Nothing to do, and a handsome dragon trainer who wants you in his bed… and to get to know you better. We will be colleagues soon after all,” he added. 

“Well when you put it like that…”

He flipped her around to face him and said, “Remind me where we were when my idiot brother interrupted us…?”

“Somewhere about here,” she said kissing him and undoing his belt. 

“Ah yes, you were about to get acquainted with one of my better qualities,” he said laughing and returning the kiss. 

He made quick work of her shirt throwing it onto the coffee table, with her bra following right behind. Charlie’s hands snaked up to her now bare breasts, cupping them, then squeezing and playing experimentally with her nipples. She got his belt off, and urged his hips up so she could slide off his pants. As she suspected two mornings ago, the hard length hiding below his boxers felt amazing between her legs. 

Charlie’s mouth made it’s way to her nipples sucking, licking, and lightly biting both in equal time. Hermione’s hips began grinding down on their own accord, causing Charlie to moan and move his hands to her hips. His massive hands made their way underneath her bum to cup her cheeks. Standing suddenly, he lifted her like he had cast a featherweight charm, wrapping her legs around his hips and began walking towards the bedroom. 

He kept the kissing going, and finally deposited her on the bed. She bounced slightly and began undoing her own pants while Charlie ripped off his tee shirt. Charlie helped her slide off her pants, and as he hooked his thumbs into her knickers he stopped, looking up at her. “Are you sure, Curls? Is this what you want?” His voice husky with lust. 

“Yes, please Charlie. This is what I want.”

He slid her knickers all the way to her ankles, and began kissing all the way up to her knee. “You tell me what you want, okay? If it gets to be too much, or you want to stop, I want you to tell me.”

She nodded her head, promising to speak up if needed. But she suspected, it wouldn’t be needed. His mouth began up the trail again making it’s way to her core. Without any preamble, he kissed her nether lips lightly, encouraged her thighs farther open, and dove in. 

His tongue was sinful. It was working her brain into a frenzy, igniting a fire in her stomach that she had thought was long burnt out. Moans were starting to sneak past her lips as she gave into Charlie’s licks. Then he inserted two fingers, and it felt like fiendfyre was licking at her from her ankles to her breasts, and from the crown of her head, to her wide thighs. As she was about to lift off from the cliff, Charlie slowed, withdrawing his fingers at snails pace. 

“ _ Charlie,”  _ she whined. 

He chuckled and moved her further onto the bed, climbing onto the edge himself. He joined her in her naked state and she could admire him fully.

“Oh, did you want to come? Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of time. But I thought we’d see if we can double up on the first go.”

“Someone’s confident,” she mumbled. 

“Hi, my name’s Charlie Weasley. Have we met?” 

She laughed because his confidence was definitely one of the factors that initially drew her to him. She found the way he carried himself one of his most attractive qualities. 

He kissed her again, pouring his pent up feelings of attraction and respect. The lighthearted feeling still there but a more urgent, serious tone began to materialize. Caught up in the moment, Hermione reached down between them, and firmly grasped his cock in her hands. She began stroking up and down, coaxing his moans into her mouth. 

He leaned forward, allowing his hands and strong forearms to frame her face. She was now able to line him up with her entrance, but not before she slowly dragged the head through her wet folds. 

“Whenever you’re ready Flames,” she said once he was in the perfect spot to enter her.

Staring into her eyes, he slowly pushed forward, stretching her exquisitely. Although she generally did not compare size, it was more about how you wield the wand than the length, his girth was finding spots inside her that she couldn’t quite find herself. 

“Oh, Charlie,” she moaned, leaning farther into the pillow and mattress. 

He bottomed out and began tortuously kissing her ear lobes, sucking them into his mouth, before starting a line down her neck to her collarbone. As he kissed across the top of her chest, skimming the very top of her breasts, he began to pull out beginning a languid pace. 

Finally regaining use of her hands, and brain, Hermione’s hands moved to her hips squeezing lightly before tracing a trail up his sides to his shoulders. She was playing with the tattooed dragons on both arms. They flew around his muscles, interacting with her finger tips as she went. She made a mental note to check for new tattoos while they lounged in bed. Maybe he would even give her a tour.

The couple continued taking their time, enjoying and mapping out each others’ bodies. Before long, Hermione had worked herself into a frenzy of feelings, the fire across her body getting hotter with each stroke. 

“What do you need, Hermione?”

“I want to come… I want you to make me come.”

“I’ll do you one better,” he said with a smile. Before she knew it, he had flipped them and she was now positioned on top of him astride his hips. “Put those new broom riding skills to work Curls.” To emphasize his point, he swatted her ass lightly.

She experimentally swirled her hips in a circle a few times, before reverse the other way. Her hands shook out the curls he seemed to love and she was sure his visual wasn’t bad either based on the swearing he was doing under his breath. 

“Sweet Merlin, Hermione as good as this feels, I would love if you provided a little more friction.”

“That can be arranged I think,” she said placing her hands on his pecs, one covering the England flag, and the other a collection of Runes set in a spiral. 

She began a steady up and down pace, sliding with ease along his shaft. “You make me so wet,” she moaned. 

“When was the last time you felt like this Hermione? Is it just me who makes this minx come out?”

“Yes,” she hissed as he began to lightly play with her clit. A slight fluttering constricting around him. 

“I can feel you, you want to come don’t you? You’re so close.” If he kept his encouragement up, she would be done for soon. 

When she began to move faster, he picked up the stroking of her clit. He really was determined to reach mutual gratification. 

“Come for me Hermione, you’re beautiful cunt is too much for me. Come for me now and I promise I’ll follow right behind you. I’ll come in you, fill you up,” he said, lust and desire filling his rocky voice. 

Two more strokes up and down, and Hermione threw her head back, going into free fall with a body shaking orgasm. Charlie grunted, holding her hips still, pumping up into her once before finishing himself. She could feel him pulsing within her, and once they both stilled, he pulled her forward to lie on his chest. 

Soon after, she vaguely felt him slip out of her. But she was caught up in the bliss of the moment, her internal fire now crackling, but receding back to her stomach. 

He kissed her temple, rolling them onto their sides and pulled the blanket up around them. “So,” he started confidently, “how does a Romanian sabbatical sound now?”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Think we should tell McGonnigal?”

“No, she’ll figure it out.”

“Happy Christmas, Hermione.”

“Happy Christmas, Charles.”


End file.
